The Invasion

Love lost lacking.  Brutal contributions from the master of the filthy undercurrent—swords, bombs, bayonets, flexing madmen and bloodcurdling sounds of dysfunctional regret—

WTF—Belly-side under, still sore from the stumble up the porch—rippled are the emanations my blood made as it sashayed across the puddles in the front hall, knew I should’ve used the insurance money to pay for repairs, but you know, sometimes, just need what you need…WTF, (take a peek out the window)

Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left,

Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right,

Bright lights, not the inner city I’m used to…not anything like anything at all—well, it’s like something, just don’t know what that is, and really, haven’t seen this much commotion since the riots back in ’98, and that was all about some bad call in a game, but Marching feet moving in rhythm and cadence, seriously what the hell, who’s birthday is it anyway, (what is the occasion?)

Sounds above, sirens rise and fall, the streets all cluttered, (better stay indoors), so much metal, so much steel, (be damned if I’m going out there, I’m the kind of guy someone does something to, just to prove a point, nope, staying put)

Loudspeaker off and on, don’t recognize the voice, can’t make out the words, (better keep the drapes shut and the lights on dim. No! Make that OFF)

Cat knows about as much as I do.  It doesn’t seem as scared as I feel though…(have to keep composure, have to keep things together), phones all dead, television works but nothing seems to make any sense, invasion, unknown assailants, unknown, unknown, unknown, static…. television about as good off as it is on, perhaps under the present circumstances, better even (guess I’ll just wait this out, let the heroes do their thing, and I’ll live up to expectations just fine in here) 

Time, time, turning without a witness to bear…yet ceaselessly parading forth…

(Good thing this house is a piece of crap, they’ll probably think it’s condemned, hopefully that’s the case anyhow, as I really don’t feel like doing anything I’m not used to, this isn’t what I’m built for, this isn’t my mission anyhow, so I’ll just try to sleep this off, but doubt the sandman will come on this particular night?)

I know it’s not going to go away.  I’ve seen a lot of bullshit in my small sample set, but, this isn’t like anything I can think of, no comparisons at all, nothing even close, and anything that doesn’t end up with me dead is a good outcome, right? 

Luckily I have a lot of cereal and plenty of powdered milk, that should last a week or two and that much foresight, in itself, is beyond anything I’m used to)

Arbitrarily regimented and statistically irrelevant…in a case like this, is all anyone can honestly hope for…

P.S.  If the draft is sending chills throughout the floor, then, by all means…

Shut the God damned door…

Acidic Beasts From Way Beyond The Self

A fire anthem preens

Amidst a canticle of paralysis

Troubled thunder unleashing

The misplaced claws of disease,

Where desire at its core, becomes

The key to a spiritual unraveling

Force-field weak, worthless even,

When the debris scattering towards,

Are disemboweled shrapnel fragments

Originating from within some unclassifiable fiend,

An abomination of the worst kind…an acidic alien beast….

Yet stand we can and stand we do

Against all odds, amidst a severe state of

Uncertainty…we must ignore the realities

Sorrow holds no wisdom here…not in this world,

Only perseverance and courageous acts of vandal,

Can offer absolution to this type of scourge

Upon the Battlefields

Surface to air

Contact wounds

Amassing in clots,

Clustered epoxy,

Seeping, from flesh to soul

A revelation amongst balderdash

Revealing the jakes of war-

Chariots afire, travail the thieving scape

While asphalt and cumulus collide in view then break

…and the visions continue

Watercolors and botanicals

Both angles bountiful

Yet inhospitable,

to those who never spoke their tongue

Limbs. Torsos. Sternums. Tibias. Fibulas. Ulnas. Radii

Huddled jigsaws. Amassing carts.

Victor would have a field day in such anarchy of body

This world is inhabitable.

Air is filled with musket fodder

Water contaminated by what keeps us living

The truth materializes within each image

Pituitary cloaks, in division

Possibility, leashed by feral strands

And bounties clipped upon…

Things no man was meant to see.   

Another Tuesday has made it's way.  Another Open Link Night is itching to play.  3 pm the links will appear.  All poets will chant their cheer. Another Pint, Another Poem, Tuesday Night, D'verse owns.  So yes, please join everyone over at D'Verse, for their weekly Open Link Night, where you can submit your offering while enjoying those shared by others.  So hope to see you all there, starting at 3pm.

The Wendigo

Sleet-like bullets fired through the driven snow,

While wispy banshees persistently played their mournful moans,

The sky became a palette white,

As temperatures descend, a mercurial kiss does the thermometer take,

We were out of luck and wandering, searching for something just enough,

To get us by until forgiveness rescinds our unfortunate remiss

Our fingers, numb from doorbells rang,

Growing brittle from the coldness of the weather

And from those who refused to listen to the call of our ringing bells,

Suddenly we saw, through a passing clearing in the sky,

Snow so high yet forlorn weeds stood tall still,

A wrought iron gate creaked and cried,

A crippled pathway we followed some ways back,

Where a decrepit old mansion we were faced with,

No intent of staying long, we broached the darkness swift and fast,

 A key crafted from cloth and arm, breached the door, allowed us in,

As intruders met we were, with sickly odors a warning flared,

With paralysis and nausea calling, a foul something filled the air,

What once was locked and forever bound, is now unchained without boundary,

Through broken seal, a sickness grows, mingling with the sleet and snow,

This darkness had been caged away, perhaps for centuries it remained this way,

And then comes this darkened eve, by a curse reprieved,

The Wendigo sleeps no longer.